


The Great Canadian Holiday Baking Show

by floosilver8



Series: GCBS in Schitt's Creek [2]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Alternate Universe - The Great British Bake Off Fusion, Established Relationship, Great Canadian Baking Show crossover, Love Bites, M/M, Mostly Fluff, POV Alternating, Patrick Brewer is a baker, holiday vibes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:00:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28056525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/floosilver8/pseuds/floosilver8
Summary: We’re snow glad to be back in the tent for a very special edition of the Great Canadian Holiday Baking Show. The stakes are lower, the bakes are festive, and only one of our returning contestants can prove themselves the winner. Who will skate easily through our challenges and who will melt under the pressure?(This is like another epilogue forOn Your Marks, Get Set, Bake, so I recommend reading that first.Rated M for some brief naughtiness, it's not all smut in here.)
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Series: GCBS in Schitt's Creek [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2055129
Comments: 17
Kudos: 104





	The Great Canadian Holiday Baking Show

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn’t leave well enough alone. My brain missed writing this story, so here’s the Holiday Special no one asked for. We’re playing by the show’s rules about timeline and it doesn’t make sense so we gloss over it. Have fun!
> 
> There are some links to charities in the text that have been anonymized (so they don’t get a bunch of referrals from AO3 in their stats and then find NSFW stuff!) in case you want to check them out.

It feels weird – in the best sense Patrick can think of – to be back in the tent again. Everything looks the same, but also slightly _off_. It’s all holiday themed in the middle of September for one. Secondly, the tent was obviously _not_ in Farmer Collins’s field this time – the ache still in his back from the plane ride reminds him of that if nothing else. But it’s so very similar at the same time and his brain is doing flips trying to sort it all out. There’s this strange feeling of longing and nostalgia in the center of his chest. And honestly, if he didn’t have his wedding ring to twirl around, and David smiling at him from across the Greenroom tent he might lose his mind a little, like the events leading him here didn’t happen or something.

“Patrick!” a voice squeals behind him. _Bonnie McMurray_...she looks almost the same too, her hair is a little different, but it’s unmistakably her, and she’s pulling Elie by the arm toward him. He hugs them both in welcome and shakes Dustin’s hand who was trailing even further behind them. They all catch up, eating snacks, drinking cocoa, making small talk until they’re each called for hair, make-up, and mic placement. Bonnie is still in Letterkenny, but co-managing MoDean’s Se7en, Elie is now a baker at Hôtel Le Crystal – a five-star hotel in Montreal, and Dustin is just happy to be on his home turf so to speak, so he can go home to his wife and three cats at the end of the day.

It seems a shame that there’s only four of them for this one-off, holiday-themed special. Patrick agreed to come back because two days of baking on camera is all he’d have to endure, but now that he’s here, now that both he and David are reprising their roles exactly like how they met…well, he kind of wishes he could do it all over again, just to relive that thrill. The rush of the ticking clock counting down. He and David were so blissfully happy, and falling in love for the first time...he’d experience it again a million times if he could.

He totally ignores the anxiety he felt back then.

\----

David sits in his designated chair across the Greenroom tent, sipping a caramel macchiato, watching it all happen from behind his sunglasses. After a few days back in the lights and fuss and he would welcome his normal life with his _husband_ all to himself again. Such a novelty to have a spouse. Someone who loved him as much as he loved them, and they showed each other every day just how much.

This is David's _decidedly final_ time in the tent and unfortunately it would happen without Alexis by his side. He had needed less convincing to host again for three reasons. First, because the producers had agreed it would be his last time. Second, because he and Patrick were buying a house _without_ the senior Roses’ help and could use the additional “clean” money. And third, because they were rolling a honeymoon trip into the deal. Two days filming on the set location just outside of Vancouver and then they can spend a week driving down the west coast where they will drink lots of wine, spend lots of time on the beaches, and do lots of “unwinding” in their hotel rooms. Maybe there would be spa treatments too.

Indeed, the GCBS showrunners had been _very_ eager to get David and Patrick back in the tent somehow after their season finished. Alexis had kept David subtlety informed that the internet was slightly obsessed with their relationship and how it must have blossomed on set. Their store had nearly 100,000 followers on Instagram, which seemed like a lot – even to David who still had a few acquaintances more famous than his family in his follower list.

That promise of a ratings spike prompted the show to ask Patrick back for their first-ever holiday special along with Bonnie, Elie, and Dustin. And David couldn’t _not_ do it then. So reason number four was chalked up before Alexis revealed she would be "unable to commit" due to her booming career transition to the communications/public relations side of showbusiness. She was in L.A. for the Emmys and simply “could not get away even for a week” she insisted. It was only after David had signed his contract that he found out his own mother was to be his co-host.

Despite sharing a gender _and_ DNA, Moira Rose and Alexis were almost totally different people. Alexis’s antics had somehow grounded him, helped him relax for this on-camera stuff, but their mother just makes him constantly on edge. He had to give her some credit, she was a consummate professional, she had been in this business for decades after all. But she didn't quite get the vibe on _this set_ yet and David had been worrying for weeks that she was going to stick her foot in her mouth. He is just _waiting_ for it to happen. Not to mention he was having flashbacks of having to perform _The Number_ every Christmas for nine years.

Well, at least Patrick would be there, and they didn’t have to hide anything this time, and it was _only_ two days of filming. Last time, the ticking clock pointed toward a life away from Patrick, and now it was firmly pointing to the rest of their lives _together_.

“Welcome back to the tent, everyone!” David begins, standing on his same mark, surveying the four familiar faces behind their workstations. “My sister and co-host Alexis couldn’t be here so instead you get my celestial mother…and me, a mildly Hebraic-looking elf.” David swept his arms across himself, indicating the most festive outfit he’s ever worn, a sparkly Dries Van Noten sweater and green Givenchy slim-cut suit trousers.

His outfit is as far as he was willing to let Alice in wardrobe go. Patrick also faired well in a hunter green tartan button up. Bonnie, Elie, and Dustin each had some level of kitsch to their outfits that he didn't totally hate. This was all for fun...he keeps reminding himself.

“Don’t you all look convivial in your vermillion pinafores?” Moira coos, the giant sequins on her Alexander McQueen dress reflecting the tent lights like a disco ball. 

“Yes, mhmm,” David blinks, playing up the ‘straight man’ role for the cameras. The irony is not lost on him. “This is a very special edition of the Great Canadian Baking Show. The four of you will compete to be the first ever Best _Holiday_ Baker in the nation.”

“And what an illustrious appellation that will be! I understand our subjugator also has the great honor of providing philanthropy to the charity of their choosing? How delightful and munificent!”

“Mmm, thank you, mother, I was just getting to that part.” David glances at Patrick at the back bench stage left and easily swallows away his nerves. Just like old times. “Additionally, all of our challenges will be holiday-themed in some way. For your Signature Challenge today you will all be making us two dozen tarts. An amuse bouche for a holiday feast.”

“You are being given a mere two hours to make these delectable delicacies. On your marks!”

“Get set!”

“Bake!”

\----

The familiar clatter of pans and beeps of timers is calming in a way Patrick didn’t expect. Having already won a cake stand trophy, he isn’t really as competitive or nervous this time around. Okay, that's a lie. Patrick wants to win. A _lot_. He has a title and pride to defend! But also, he has more of a desire to just have fun too and he sets to work at his bench behind Dustin trying to convince himself there’s not much riding on it.

“Congratulations Patrick and David,” Bruno says, finding his spot in front of Patrick’s workstation for the mid-bake interview with Kyla and David. “We’re all so happy for you both!”

“Oh, thank you,” Patrick grins, reveling in not needing to hide their relationship.

“I heard you did not make your wedding cake Patrick, is that right?” Kyla asks.

“Yeah, no, I did _not_ want that responsibility on the most important day of our lives.” He glances up and winks at his husband. “We actually had Kesha make it.”

Kesha had moved to Toronto shortly after filming and had kept in touch with Patrick, and by proxy David. And after she opened her bake shop in the city, it seemed like a logical choice in the end. The cake was of course delicious and beautiful as expected, despite the rain trying to drown everyone and everything that day.

“It was three tiers, each one a different flavor.” Patrick absolutely loves talking about their wedding day because it makes David blush and squirm beautifully, like he still can’t believe it was real.

“She did a brilliant job,” David agrees, hiding his grin behind sealed lips and a schooled expression for the cameras. But his eyes are dark and laser-focused on Patrick like he wants to dip him in chocolate sauce and devour him slowly, much like they had done to the leftovers on their wedding night.

Oh, damn. That’s another thing the tent was bringing back – being horny with cameras around. Maybe there _was_ something he needed to hide. There’s so much more mental material to work with now, maybe this is dangerous.

“That’s such a lovely connection,” Kyla smiles. “So, what are you making for us today then?”

“Right, today I will be doing a maple walnut mince pie,” he smiles.

“A twist on a classic, as per your usual,” Bruno interjects. “That served you well last time around.”

“We look forward to it. Good luck,” Kyla wraps them up.

Having David distracting Patrick while baking is nothing new. It’s the foundation of their relationship after all, and their kitchen table had seen a lot of _action_ as a result. But having Mrs. Rose in the tent? Now that was distracting in a different way. To an outsider she could so very easily appear to be the typical “monster-in-law,” but Patrick never felt that way. The Roses had welcomed him into their family with open arms, but he still wanted to be on Best Behavior around them. If nothing else, Moira just felt like the only truly _new_ thing in the tent, and therefore _off_.

“Bakers!” Moira calls, cupping her fingerless-gloved hands around her mouth to unnecessarily amplify her voice, “do not divagate, there remains only five minutes!”

“Okay, seriously, mom,” David pulls her hands away. “There’s only four of them, they can hear you.”

“Apologies to our technical personnel,” she frowns and winks directly to camera.

Patrick’s not the only one laughing while fussing over his miniature pies. Bonnie and Elie are giggling and apparently each making good use of a powdered sugar dusting, turning their chuckles into coughs as it billows over their benches. Dustin’s the only one not laughing, instead he’s busily trimming the burnt edges of his crusts. As soon as Patrick sets the last pie on his serving tray, he bounds over to help Dustin finish.

“Today’s Technical Challenge has been set for you by Bruno,” David gestures, gold engagement rings glinting in the mid-day sun. He wore a thinner gold wedding band for every day now, the four thicker bands Patrick had proposed with only came out sporadically. Patrick hadn’t yet figured out if there was a pattern for David wearing them, special occasions of course, so he assumed David wanted to show them off on the show.

“As you are aware this challenge is adjudicated blind, so we send our doryphore companions back from whence they came,” Moira says. “Perhaps you can percolate on the preferred palative properties of this penultimate pensum.”

Patrick was proud of his CLEP score but listening to Mrs. Rose speak was always an adventure. He suspected she was playing it up for the cameras even more than usual, which made him smile a little

“Anyway,” David blinks at the bakers pointedly. “You are being asked to make eight Amish apple fry pies with a brown butter drizzle.”

“David ran away to an Amish farm once when he was five,” Moira says offhandedly.

“Okay, mom that’s not-” David tries to steer her back.

“He accompanied me to a photoshoot in the country and my poor progeny was positively envious of mummy’s accolades and admirers. We spent an entire day trying to convince my sweet, petulant bébé to come back to the commune.”

“You will have an hour and fifteen minutes for this challenge.” David barrels on, smiling but ignoring all of that. “On your marks, get set, bake!”

Patrick honestly could not be sure how much of Mrs. Rose’s lines were scripted, and he made a mental note to ask David later.

Oh, Technical Challenge, no way in hell did Patrick miss these. Sparse directions, often obscure recipes, always a nightmare. He sets his mind to work, reading and re-reading the directions twice. Elie openly tells the camera crew pointed at her station that she “hates this so much!” Dustin nicks his finger cutting apples and has to take a few minutes to get patched up by the on-set medic. Bonnie drops an entire container of cinnamon sticks on the edge of her counter. It is chaos, but not in the high-pressure way of the past. It’s silly and loose, and Patrick remembers again that this is also really fun.

“Surprise!” David holds a sprig of mistletoe over Patrick’s worktop and leans, lips first, to kiss his husband good luck. It’s a quick but very fond peck that has them both grinning ear to ear despite the giant camera pointed at them.

“Cheating!” Bonnie shouts across the aisle from them. “That’s cheating!”

“Kissing is cheating?” Patrick laughs, narrowly avoiding leaning a hand into his perfectly rolled dough.

“Yes!” she’s grinning but throws an apple core at them – which Patrick deftly catches.

“Well, I was going to kiss everyone but now I’m skipping you,” David shrugs at her.

“Heeeey,” she pouts.

Patrick shakes his head at her. Bonnie McMurray was a terrible flirt and so was David, and he just grins when David later pecks her on the cheek while passing by her station.

“Cease all movement, bakers!” Moira calls the end of the challenge a while later. “Please bring your ogdoad up to the holiday gingham altar.”

Patrick’s pies are on the far left, first to be judged – not that he would have to wait long if he were on the opposite end, there only being four contestants total. Bruno and Kyla give Patrick’s a good review, not spectacular, not bad. Dustin’s are a bit lacking in apple – likely an effect of his earlier accident. Bonnie’s have maybe too much filling. Elie’s are deficient in drizzle.

“In fourth place,” Bruno says finally, “is this one.”

Dustin’s.

“In third place,” Kyla steps up. “These.”

Elie’s.

“In second place,” Bruno takes over and Patrick has just enough time to think to himself about how funny it would be to come in second _yet again_ when Bruno steps to the far left of the table. “These here.”

Damn it.

“Mine,” Patrick nods and smiles. Fitting. Slightly disappointing, but fitting.

“That means first places are these,” Kyla grins and points to the remaining platter.

“Me!” Bonnie yelps. “I won a Technical!!” Her joy is infectious, and everyone congratulates her animatedly. Patrick can fully appreciate that he and Elie, having been in the final are going to be seen as the ones to beat – even Dustin made it to semi-final their season – making Bonnie the underdog. It’s nice seeing her get top marks now, when she had such a poor showing the week she was eliminated.

Production assistant Marie wraps the judges, but contestants and hosts stay behind for some quick promo shots. David and Patrick are instructed to almost kiss under the mistletoe again. It’s cute but it’s also really boring having to hold a very still kiss face for several seconds at a time while the photographer gets the shot. He doesn’t have to fake looking moony at his husband though, and he gets into the holiday spirit despite it being September.

\----

David should be used to standing all day, since that’s basically what he does at the store. But it’s still different here. It feels more contained and restrictive. He’s following someone else’s direction and vision. He’s good at it, but still, it’s exhausting.

After some minimal protest David agrees to eat at the local café with everyone else. When are they going to have the chance again, right? David was more about living in the moment in healthy ways these days – a quality that he owed almost entirely to Patrick. And just like Twyla’s Café Tropical the food at the diner is “moderately edible.” Even his mother is in good spirits, regaling everyone with tales of her _Sunrise Bay_ glory days. The conversation is easy, and light and it’s almost like being back at summer camp one last time before they all turn into grown-ups.

By the time they get back to their room (actually, it’s the suite since they’re saving the show money by sharing a room) Stevie and his dad are done with their meeting in the city, and Stevie joins them in their suite to wind down.

“Guess who is the proud new owner of the building you are currently sitting in…well, co-owner,” Stevie says, slipping off her heels and collapsing on the couch next to David.

“Really?!” he asks with a gasp, relief spreading over him, ignoring the voice telling him to reprimand her for wrinkling her beautiful pantsuit. It was a treat to herself after she liked her Groom’s Maid suit for their wedding so much.

“Yup!” she pops open the white bakery box on the coffee table and pokes around. “Which ones are Patrick’s? You know I only trust his to be good.”

Patrick laughs and blushes at the compliment, then points out the tarts he had made during that morning’s taping. Only half of Patrick’s fry pie is left – David having polished off the first half in the car ride back with absolutely no shame. His husband was a damn good baker and had a trophy to prove it.

They sit and drink the celebratory wine David had bought at the little shop in town “just in case,” and listen as Stevie regals them with how his dad had closed the deal. He is genuinely happy for how far his best friend has come. Both literally and figuratively.

She and Johnny Rose now owned ten properties across Canada and one in Minnesota – Rose Apothecary being the exclusive toiletry product supplier for all of them. What had started as small talk during the GCBS wrap picnic in Schitt’s Creek had turned into this successful partnership relatively quickly. The Rosebud Motel Group had won several Hospies so far and showed no signs of slowing down.

It was not a total coincidence that they had ended up buying the motel that GCBS was using for local show accommodations. Once his mother had signed on to host and they were notified of their temporary lodgings, his father was bound and determined to find the owner and convince them to consider selling to his pet investment project.

They were a far cry from her sudden and stoic reveal of owning the Schitt's Creek motel way back when. And now his best friend was a motel mogul. He couldn't be prouder, or love his life any more.

Much later that night, Patrick crawls down David’s body, spread out over the crisp white motel sheets, peppering kisses along his torso. They were supposed to be relaxing and rejuvenating themselves for the long shoot tomorrow, but damn if having his hot husband in a new environment wasn’t the biggest turn-on.

“Remember that time – I think it was show eight,” Patrick licks at the jut of David’s collarbone. “And I was so worried about my baking? And you came over to the apartment and ‘helped’ and then _did not help_ at all? Said you wanted me to remember you on your knees?”

“Mmm, I don’t recall you complaining or protesting in the slightest,” David keens when Patrick bites playfully at his left nipple.

“Right well,” Patrick pauses to kiss David deeply, like he's savoring the taste of lips and tongue before resuming his trail south. “I’m going to give you something to remember me by tomorrow, when we’re taping.”

Before David can process what that might be, Patrick’s teeth are sinking into the fleshy part of David’s upper thigh, so, so close to his aching, leaking cock.

“Ooooooh fuuuuuck,” David gasps, nearly doing a full sit-up arching so far off the bed, torn between the beautiful pain and the all-consuming ecstasy. His husband's mouth was both heaven and hell, and he honestly could not decide which side was winning tonight. It was a continuation of a game they played, marking each other in intimate places, letting their passion be written on their skin. It was primal and delicious, and David would proudly wear the signals of their love for days every time.

After nearly a lifetime of sleeping alone, he now had Patrick sharing his bed on the regular, but David had yet to tire of it. Sometimes they were fucking – hot and fast and dirty – and sometimes it was softer, slower and classified better as “making love” – even if that term still sort of makes David’s skin crawl. Until he had a better phrase that one would have to do. And he would have to acquiesce to his husband’s carnal whims.

It was not a struggle.

Patrick was right. No way was David going to forget about last night in their motel bed with his red velvet Todd Snyder suit trousers cutting across his sensitive skin every time he sat or walked. Fuuuck, it was good. As fabulous as his mother looks in her completely impractical Graham Cruz molded metal bodice, he was thankful for a slightly less-stiff wardrobe today.

“This is it, bakers, the Showstopper Challenge,” he says, bouncing his glances between the three bakers he did not know _intimately_ , whose dental records could not have been derived from his thigh. Maybe he does it just to tease his husband.

“Take heed, all of you,” his mom jumps in. “This is your last remaining opportunity for impressing our cavil criticasters as they ingurgitate your creations!”

“Mmm, an appetizing introduction as always, mother,” David fixes his grimace into a gentle smile as best he can. “For our final challenge you will each be making a Buche de Noel or ‘log cake’ for our holiday picnic. It must be standing upright, and include two other baked elements of your choice.”

“A trompe l’oeil treat for the senses!”

“You have three hours for this challenge. On your marks, get set,”

“Baaake!” they chorus together. He would never admit it, but this was a little fun.

\-----

Patrick can’t keep the smile off his face as everyone gets out their recipes and begins their tasks. This is the last time he would be here with this flurry of activity, and the warmth in the tent is not only from the ovens but the cheer and joy bumping it up a few degrees too. Getting emotional was not part of the plan here. Damn.

“Bonjour, Elll-” Moira singsongs loud enough for the whole tent to hear.

“Elie,” David quickly whispers under his breath.

“-lie,” she finishes, settling into the space in front of her workstation with the other three. Definitely not the first time or likely the last time she’ll forget someone’s name in the tent. Honestly, she only gets Patrick’s name right about 50 percent of the time. He wonders if she’ll get it right when they eventually make their way over to interview him.

“Elie,” she begins again, “tell us about what will undoubtedly be a delectable Buche de Noel for us to degust, and the most worthy cause you have chosen to benefit should you be selected as our winner.”

“Mais, oui,” Elie nods, smiling at the quartet parked in front of her bench. “I am making a spiced sponge avec cinnamon and cardamom vanilla filling. And my charity is the [Native Women’s Shelter of Montreal](https://301.es/?http://www.nwsm.info/).”

“Ah, bon chance!” Moira twiddles her fingers in a wave as they all move on.

“Bonnie,” David takes over as their group resettles at the next worktop. “Tell us about the log cake you are planning and the charity you’re supporting today.”

“Thank you, David,” Bonnie smiles innocently but there’s a cheeky lilt to her voice. “I’ll be making a double chocolate and caramel cake. And the charity I’m playing for today is [Feed Ontario](https://301.es/?https://feedontario.ca/), working to connect food banks in the area to end hunger and poverty.”

“A worthy endeavor,” David agrees, and he gives her a wink as they thank her and move on.

“Hello you!” Moira opens the interview with Dustin, camera crews settling themselves to get dual coverage. “And what charming confection will you be making for us today?”

“I’ll be making a vanilla and orange Buche de Noel,” Dustin nods, grating an orange while he speaks.

“Delightful! And your chosen charitable corporation?”

“Today I’m supporting [Hogan’s Alley Society](https://301.es/?https://www.hogansalleysociety.org/), a civil rights organization in Vancouver.”

“Promise not to lose a finger this time, okay?” Kyla teases before they walk away.

“Patrick!” David says in his well-used bedroom voice mere inches from his workstation. It sends a sizable swoop to Patrick’s groin and catches everyone else off guard so there’s a bit of giggling to reign in before they continue. “I’ll try that again before Marie loses her mind. Ahem. ...Patrick,” he says in his TV host voice, “tell us about the cake and charity you’ve chosen.”

“Right, well, I’ll be making a chocolate and raspberry log cake,” Patrick replies, transferring his batter into the cake pan. “And I’m promoting the [Friends of Ruby](https://301.es/?https://www.friendsofruby.ca/) an organization supporting LGBTQIAP+ youth in Ontario.”

“Wonderful,” Bruno says, “You’re our returning champion, how are you feeling about your chances today?”

“Oh, I am not holding back. I’m ready to win it all again.”

“I’m coming for you, Brewer!” Bonnie calls across the tent, laughing at the same time. There’s a quick flurry of cameras turning to capture both of their reactions, so Patrick plays it up with wide eyes and a feigned gasp of alarm.

“Get after it, then!” he calls back.

“I’ll defend you, sweetheart,” David whispers leaning over the worktop, and Patrick recognizes he is 100 percent being trolled by his husband. Maybe he deserves it, David’s gait has been a little crooked today. That realization fills Patrick with a bit of pride and distracts him enough that he nearly forgets to roll his cake while it’s still warm.

“Alas, bakers, you have but a handful of minutes remaining! Make fastidious use of the time!” Moira calls from the front of tent.

“Ten minutes. She means ten minutes, folks,” David clarifies.

The last few moments are chaos, as usual. Dustin is surprisingly calm for someone whose workstation looks to have five kitchens’ worth of dirty dishes. Bonnie is muttering and frantic, her apron is covered in chocolate streaks, but her cake looks worryingly good. Elie is bouncing back and forth from her freezer and presentation plate. And Patrick has to rush through sugaring his raspberries and cranberries, only getting mildly anxious when several of the raspberries just fall apart in his hands. It’s the ticking clock making his blood pressure rise and not at all the prospect of winning…or _not_ winning…or so he tells himself.

\----

David tries not to fidget during the judging, but it’s impossible today with the lovely ache in his upper thigh. He also tries desperately to not stare at Patrick in his cute little red apron, waiting patiently for his turn. It doesn’t help that his husband keeps staring at him and raking his eyes up and down David’s body like he’s mentally unwrapping him. It’s heavy and delicious and not at all appropriate but he’s getting away with it.

He might return the favor when it is Patrick’s time to stand and be judged. Patrick had made this cake twice before they had left for filming. Once was a month ago after getting the final brief, and once was just last week. Some of the leftovers had been given to Ray, Twyla, Jocelyn, and Stevie in exchange for their unfiltered opinions and gracious agreement to mind their store occasionally. David wasn’t sure what Patrick was hoping to get out of those four, but they all had said, “Mmm, good!” and not much else. Only Twyla had been able to add some additional feedback of “good flavor profile” and Stevie had declared the cake “moist” in a voice that had made David shudder.

Bruno and Kyla also seem to appreciate its construction, bake, and flavor. They don’t rave about anything, but they also don’t have any criticism to speak of. In fact, all four of the returning bakers receive similar reviews so it all seems neck-and-neck.

Then during the break, David joins the other three leads to film a short interlude to the big reveal while the four bakers take their creations to the party outside. Bruno and Kyla recap the past two days of bakes and again it sounds like it could be anyone’s game. It’s only off camera that they talk to producers and make the final decision, then review the run of show for the final segment. David opts for a bouquet instead of announcing, and his mother is only too eager to be the one center stage, holding the cake stand.

As they make their way outside, David can’t help but smile at how the field around the tent has been transformed into a winter oasis. There are boughs of holly, bows of red, several sizes of sleighs, strings upon strings of white fairy lights, and most impressive of all is the fake snow falling softly all around. He recognizes some of the family and friends of the other bakers from their first picnic together. But he also makes sure to catch Stevie’s and his dad’s eyes, then spots the Brewers closer to Patrick.

The four leads hit their marks and then the four bakers are called to hit theirs. David keeps his smile genuine as he watches them link arms and smile expectantly back at them. It’s a peaceful and happy moment in a very strange setting, and he tries not to get emotional about remembering his husband’s original win, and how this is his last TV gig likely ever. They had lost each other for two months last time and David was never going to let that happen again. They had their store, and each other, and their whole damn happy life in Schitt’s Creek. This showbusiness stuff was just a blip. An interesting story to tell people about how they met.

“Bakers,” he begins when Marie cues him. “We are so happy to have had your talents back in our tent for this very special holiday edition of the Great Canadian Baking Show”

“Yes. We. Have,” his mother takes over, punctuating her words with small bounces of the cake stand in her hands. “You have filled out our buccula with your marvelous morsels, and our edacious experts deliberated to at last select our victorious vanquisher.” She pauses for dramatic effect like a true professional and David can’t keep his smile from growing ever fonder. “Our Best Amateur Holiday Baker is…the beautiful Bonnie!”

Her shocked face is worth the little thread of hurt he can see behind Patrick’s smile. Not for the first time, he remarks to himself that his husband is far too competitive. He waits his turn to congratulate Bonnie, Elie is practically holding her up, and there is a rather rowdy gentleman who has no right being related to someone as gorgeous as Bonnie, but he _must_ be the brother she's mentioned with the way he’s carrying on.

“Sorry you didn’t reprise your win,” David says, finally sliding in close to Patrick, an arm around his shoulder and handing off the bouquet.

“Aw, thanks. But I’m already a winner because I have _you_ ,” Patrick kisses his husband’s cheek gently, and David would groan at the cheese of it all, he he actually loves it. They gaze at each other tenderly for a moment, and David admires the way the snow clings to Patrick’s festive toque and eyelashes.

“Mmm, well, I have a week to show you that you’re _my_ Star Baker,” David winks and surreptitiously slides his hand down Patrick’s back to squeeze his ass, making sure the camera crews are all focused on other things.

“Ah, see, I would say 'our whole lives' for that, but sure, we'll start with a week."

"I stand corrected," David concedes. "A slip of the tongue."

"Speaking of...once I take this mic pack off, I can’t be held responsible for my mouth,” Patrick slides his hand down David’s hip and covertly grazes the tender spot he has to know has been driving David crazy all day.

By the end of the night, they’ll both have matching marks there. And by the end of the week, they’ll both have an entire road map of love written on their skin, that they will trace over for the rest of their lives.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Holidays everyone! Let's leave 2020 in the dust and emerge in 2021 with new hope and smut.


End file.
